


I'm Your Man

by Ryenan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drabbles, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 22:15:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8226470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryenan/pseuds/Ryenan
Summary: Drabbles and scene snippets, each based on a phrase from Leonard Cohen's "I'm Your Man" song. Not chronological.





	1. If You Want A Lover, I'll Do Anything You Ask Me To

**Author's Note:**

> Enable View all chapters! These are way short, it would be a waste to click through each chapter.
> 
> These are just little snippets I wrote when stuck on a different project! The song isn't finished, So I'll update as I go!
> 
> Lemme know if there are any errors!

“I want you to kill Scott,” Stiles murmurs into Peter’s mouth as they press together under silk sheets.

“Oh?”

“I want you –“ a kiss – “to be my alpha – “ a gasp – “and for us to rule. Take his power.”

Peter bites and licks at his pale collarbone, sliding up to nip at his ear.

“I’ll do anything you ask me to.”


	2. I'll Wear A Mask For You

“I want you to shift.”

“Now?”

They are standing in the cereal aisle at nine am, but Stiles has asked for stranger things at stranger times. And who was Peter to refuse him anything?

“Tonight. After you cook me dinner. But before we ruin the sheets.”

Peter just grins, letting a little fang show. Stiles kisses his cheek as he sneaks lucky charms into the buggy.


	3. If You Want A Partner, Take My Hand

“Stiles! Peter! Run! Go!” Scott tosses a hunter against the wall as Peter and Lydia struggle to pull a badly wounded Stiles to his feet. Peter simply scoops Stiles into a bridal carry instead when they get the last of the ropes off him.

Stiles clings to his shirt with bloody fingers, head lolling. Peter grips his slim thigh and runs.

* * *

 

They take him to Melissa instead of the hospital, where his magic would complicate things.

He has to be held down while she sets bones in his hand and wrist. Peter curls over his back, one hand holding his arm to the table, the other splayed across his chest to keep him from lurching forward. It’s agonizing, even with Peter pulling all the pain he can.

When Melissa is satisfied and goes to get ice, Stiles leans back and pats the hand on his chest.

“Thank you.”

Peter just kisses his hair.


	4. If You Want to Strike Me Down In Anger, Here I Stand

“I’m going to kill you.”

“I deserve it.” Peter is backed up against the wall, next to the fridge. His chin is up, neck extended before Stiles.

“No!” Stiles yells as he slams his hands down, breaking the island with concussive, magical force.  “Fight me! Beg me! Damn you, Peter, this isn’t a game!”

Peter slides to his knees.

“Kill me. I wish I hadn’t done it. Kill me. I’m yours.”


	5. I Will Step Into The Ring For You

“Let me take your place.”

“What?”

“The fight. You’ll die without magic, but I can take your place. As your mate, we’re one and the same by pack law.”

“What if you get hurt? I can’t lose you, I’ll figure the fight out – “

“I’m a lot sturdier than you. You’re fragile, I love you, but it’s true. Let me fight for you.”


	6. If You Want A Doctor, I'll Examine Every Inch Of You

Peter starts with his fingers. Two are bound together, broken, and his knuckles and the pads of his fingers are still scabbed and raw. There are needle marks on one elbow where they had been doping him, a band of bruises on his upper arm from restraints, claw marks on his shoulder.

They left his legs alone, thank g-d, Stiles couldn’t take another broken ankle or knee surgery. There are bruises on his hips from being tossed around in a van, on a concrete floor, his thrashing in the chair they tied him to. These will fade soon.

The jagged scratch right under his collar bones, shoulder to shoulder, had taken nearly 30 stitches. The three cuts across his face would scar, undoubtedly. Peter is so thankful they didn’t take his eye, just his cheek, his smile.

“How are my injuries, doctor?” Stiles’ voice is a whisper as he tries to not move his mouth and stress the stitched on his face.”

“I’m satisfied.”

“You know you’re going to have to let Dr. Greene examine me too.” This had been a point of contention since he was admitted. Peter didn’t want anyone near him, had hovered and fussed about his mate, doing his best to keep the doctors’ scent off him.

“We should send Melissa back to school, let her be the pack doctor.”

“Dr. Greene is fine, Peter. He knows the deal. Mason is pack, and his father is by proxy.” Stiles rubs at his throat and Peter gives him the hospital issue bendy-straw cup. The water inside had been doctored with herbs and cloves, peppermint for his throat. The cup of juice had iron and violet in it, and was disgusting, but seemed to be helping as well.

“I don’t like him treating you. He’s a good man, but I want a female doctor. Preferably Melissa.”

“We can arrange that. I’m sorry, Peter, I didn’t know I was bothering you.” Dr. Greene is the kindest towards Peter, as he hadn’t been around during Peter’s “black period” as they called it. He really was apologizing for not knowing pack dynamics.

“Dr. Greene. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. A little distracted. Really, it isn’t you, I t’s just a –“

“A wolf thing, I know. I think Stiles is healing normally enough for me to bring in a regular doctor. Have you ever met Dr. Callada? She’s from pediatrics, very sweet, but I’m sure she would come up at your request.”

“Yes please.” Stiles raises his voice just enough for Dr. Greene to hear him, and winces at the pull on his cheek. Peter runs a soft hand along his jaw, pulling the pain quickly.

“You look like you could use a coffee, Peter. I’ll be back with Callada and some coffee soon.”


	7. If You Want A Driver, Climb Inside

Peter drives like a bat out of hell. Derek does too, of course, and Scott is just a bad driver, but Peter drives like it’s the grand prix.

“Peter!” They sling around a curve, feet from the cliff edge, a fierce grin on Peter’s face. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road as he answers.

“Yes?”

“we’re going to be an hour early if you keep this up. You don’t have to accelerate constantly.”

“I won’t crash. I won’t let you get hurt.” He sounds almost hurt, a slight cadence to his tone that Stiles can barely pick out of his usual blasé tone.

“I know you won’t. but slow down a little, okay? I’m glad you’re driving on this road, not me, but it still makes me nervous. I hate this road.”

They’re on route A1A, high above the shoreline, feet from the edge of the road. It’s the middle of the night, nearly one am, so it’s clear of other drivers. Clear of people who could help, call 911 if they go over the edge. It’s where his mother died.

The ambulance wasn’t built for this kind of road, so trying to keep from tipping over the edge it took them too long to get to the campsite. It took them too long to get to the hospital. She died somewhere on this ridge because someone couldn’t drive as fast as Peter in his slick little car. But the speed is still frightening, the area too clogged with painful memories and imagined scenarios.

Peter slows down.


	8. If You Want To Take Me For A Ride, You Know You Can

Peter is half conscious, pale and bleeding and moaning in the back of the jeep. Lydia, her dress stained with blood – mostly others, some her own – is pressing down on his bleeding side with Stiles’ hoodie.

Stiles is driving as fast as he can. Get somewhere safe, get Peter inside, save him. He’s already running through what supplies he’s going to need, trying to decide if home will be good enough or if they should just head for the loft. Most of his supplies are at peter’s loft, but it’s farther away.

“Lydia, do you think we can make it to the loft?” He chances a look over his shoulder.

“He’s stabilizing some, probably waking up. Go for it.”

“Knock him out again. If he wakes up with that wound he’ll go into shock.”

They make it to the loft and drag him upstairs.

* * *

He comes to as they finish wrapping him up.

“Did you drive here, Stiles?”

“Peter, hey, you feel okay?”

“I’ve got a migraine and feel like I got run over. You must have driven here for how bad my head hurts.”

“Jackass. Shut up and heal.”

“You aren’t going to kiss it better?”

Stiles sighs and gives him a kiss on the temple.

“Sleep, Peter.”


	9. The Moon's Too Bright, Chain's Too Tight, The Beast Won't Go To Sleep

The have to chain Peter up during the full moon when Stiles is away. He tries to be with Peter during a full moon, but sometimes he can’t get away from a negotiation or a spell he’s working for another pack requires the moon. Peter can’t come on every trip, can’t leave their territory without an enforcer very often. Beacon Hills has enemies, so Peter has to stay there so there is enough of a deterrent to prevent an attack.

He’s still a little unstable, a little too violent, which makes him good at enforcing and bad at going solo for a full moon. He need Stiles in person, where he can hide him away, keep him far from harm.

He howls all night, pulling on the chains till the cut into him. They had once tried having Pre-recorded messages from stiles play on the stereo, but Peter took that worse than silence. Having bedding that smelled like stiles worked for an hour or two, but then he began wining and struggling again.

The full moon was horrible without Stiles. The moon, the chains, his wolf. Peter was exhausted for days after a Stiles-free night, but there was nothing to be done. Peter couldn’t stand for Stiles to be near other wolves, and Stiles couldn’t avoid some trips that kept him over a full moon.

There is nothing to do but suffer.


End file.
